by Leah Atwood
How did he explain the loneliness that had assaulted him as he sat on the train, watching the landscape fade from one view to another? So many similar vistas, but vastly different in their own right. For six years, he’d dreamed of returning to Wyoming, ever since Ma had moved them to Chicago after Pa died.
Now Ma was gone too, and all that remained of the Scott family was Jeremiah and his older brother Joseph, who was married and chose to stay in Chicago. He and his wife were expecting their second child next spring. Joseph had his own life, and it was time for Jeremiah to begin his.
The problem was, he didn’t want to go at it alone. As the prairie stretched across the land, Jeremiah remembered the land’s desolation hidden beneath its rugged beauty. Winters were unforgiving, maddening if one had nobody with whom to share them.
He’d never had to spend any winter alone, even in Chicago. The house he’d shared with Ma was large, and though he could have moved on several years ago, he’d remained when Ma took sick. After she passed from a lengthy illness, he’d signed over his share of the house to Joseph, who needed it more than he did.
His heart had never left Wyoming, Weatherton specifically, and after Ma’s death, he’d know he would return to his family’s ranch. Only as the train rolled, did it dawn on him that he’d be completely alone once he reached Weatherton. He wasn’t even certain how many of his old friends still lived in town or had moved on. All he knew, from correspondence with the land agent, was that the family house still stood and was in livable condition.
“Ah-hem.” A delicate cough cleared Miss Rohrer’s throat, reminding him where he was.
“To answer your question, I still grieved my mother’s death when I left Chicago.” He lowered his arms to his side from their crossed position over his chest. “Marriage was not on my mind.”
Miss Rohrer’s head shook slowly with purpose. “I work very hard to attain matches that will produce lasting and happy couplings. While I admit my methods are unorthodox, I believe marriage to be a sacred union, not entered unto lightly.” She leaned further forward. “Tell me why I should help, when it seems marriage was an afterthought.”
Striding to the desk, he formulated a response from his heart. “While my desire to marry now, before Christmas, is a recent decision, I’ve always known I’d like to marry one day.” He sat on a bland wooden chair and looked Miss Rohrer in her pale gray eyes. “The overall decision is not a rash one and I will honor my vows, no matter how and when I meet my wife. I’m a Godly man, Miss Rohrer, and strive to live my life according to His word.”
“How long have you been in Cheyenne and when do you plan to leave?”
“Thirteen days and I hope to depart next week. I have a few more ends to tie before I head for my final destination.”
“Very well.” A resigned sigh escaped Miss Rohrer’s mouth. “I can’t make any promises, especially not with such a narrow time frame, but I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“That’s all I ask.” Something akin to hope sputtered in his soul, causing him to realize how much he’d dreaded spending not just the winter, but the indefinite future, alone. Enough that it prompted him to search for a wife in an unconventional manner although he had no doubts about the course he’d set for himself.
“I require half of my fee up front and the remainder once I’ve found an acceptable match for you.”
He reached for his billfold. “How much do I owe you?”
“Fifty dollars.”
His eyes widened. “Altogether?”
Miss Rohrer shook her head. “That is the half required of you now.”
“A hundred dollars total?” He swallowed hard. “That’s exorbitant.”
Peering over the spectacles sliding down her nose, Miss Rohrer regarded him with a discreet smugness. “Can you put a price on love and companionship, Mr. Scott?”
With grudgingness, he handed her all the bills in his possession. After he left, he’d have to stop at the bank and make a withdrawal. Thank goodness for the inheritance his grandparent’s had left, or he might have to start his own matchmaking business. “What else do you need from me?”
After opening a desk drawer, Miss Rohrer set the bills inside and withdrew a sheet of paper. She closed the drawer and reached for a pencil. “Tell me about your ideal wife. Any preferred physical attributes, character traits?”
His elbow rested on the chair’s arm, and looking up, propped his head against his palm. “She can’t be too frail, as Wyoming can be very harsh. A strong disposition is a must and she can’t be squeamish. Someone who understands the life of a rancher would be ideal.” He sat upright. “High moral character is an absolute though I have no preference to social standing.”
“Would you consider a widow?” A solemn line creased Miss Rohrer’s forehead. “I’ll be honest, your options, especially under your brief timeline, will be very limited. That is why men often hire me find to them a woman from other regions.”
“Hmm.” Contemplative, he absently bit the inside of his cheek. “I don’t see that a widow would present a problem as long as she didn’t still grieve her late husband, at least not to the point it interfered with the relationship between her and I.”
“And if she has children from that previous marriage. Are you willing to raise them as your own?”
He didn’t answer right away—fatherhood was a humbling responsibility. In his peripheral thoughts, he’d always thought he’d like a few sons or daughters running around, but he’d assumed they’d come after marriage. But have some young ones in the house would add an interesting dynamic, and how could he deny a woman because of her children? Even if they came sooner than he’d anticipated, little ones were a blessing. And what better time to bring a child into his life than at Christmastime.
“Yes.” He nodded. “No woman should be eliminated simply because she has children.”
“Very well.” Miss Rohrer wrote a few more things on the paper before setting down the pencil and looking up. “Where can I contact you upon finding a match?”
“Mrs. Hodgson’s boarding house.”
“As I’ve stated, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best.” Pushing back from the desk, she stood and extended her hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
Accepting her hand, he gave it a quick shake. “Thank you.”
Jeremiah left the building, intending to make a stop at the bank. Frigid air wrapped around him, chilling his bones. Changing his plans, he entered a restaurant several blocks from Miss Rohrer’s office. He ordered a cup of coffee, intending to eat his supper at the boarding house later that evening, but the scent of roast beef tantalized his senses. When the server returned with his coffee, he added a Tuesday special to his bill.
Forty-five minutes later, his stomach was full and body warm. He was ready to brave the cold and finish his errands. Chicago had employed its own brand of brutal winters, but there, he’d never had reason to be in the elements for long periods of time. That would change with his return to Wyoming, and he’d have to reacclimatize.
The corners of his mouth curved into a smile. A long day on the range, facing harsh conditions, didn’t sound so bad when he thought about a wife waiting for him at the house.
Miss Rohrer would find him a match. He knew in his heart that he would leave Cheyenne a married man, and that filled him with anticipation.
Chapter 3
The sinister gleam in Roland Lane’s coal black eyes made Tallie’s heart pound with fear. Using all the discipline she could muster, she kept her back rigid, and her feet firmly planted on the floor. She sat in her employer’s office, called in from her laundering.
“We need to discuss your terms of employment once the baby makes its arrival.” Roland—she couldn’t gather enough respect for him to think of him as Mr. Lane—leaned against the front of his desk.
“What… what do you mean?” she asked, hating that she stammered. Instinct drew her hands to her swollen midsection, protectively cradling the baby growing inside her
.
Under arched eyebrows, Roland’s eyes sparkled with vile humor. “You’re services will be needed elsewhere.”
He didn’t need to say where—his nauseating grin said it all. Everyone in Cheyenne knew that Lane’s Saloon and Hotel was the front for a brothel. Of course, Tallie hadn’t realized it until after she’d accepted the laundress position, but even after the discovery, she’d had little choice but to stay. She’d spent two weeks searching for employment, and during that time frame her body had grown so that her condition was obvious. Roland was the only person willing to hire a single woman who was expecting a child.
At the time, Tallie had been grateful. Now she was fearful. She clasped her hands together to still their trembling. “I was hired as a laundress. I will not become one of your soiled doves.”
“There is no choice, Miss Duncan.” Roland straightened his legs. His eyes raked over her body. “Once your baby arrives, my customers will find you desirable. You’ll be a commodity I won’t waste by hiding you in the laundry room.”
“You’re a vile man.” Repulsion rose the bile from her stomach. “I will quit before I succumb to your demands.”
His head nodded arrogantly toward her midsection. “Must I remind you that you’ll have a child to care for? How do you plan on doing that without any earnings?”
“I’ll find a way.” Protectiveness toward her baby pushed back her fear.
“I’m a powerful man. I can have you blacklisted throughout all Wyoming, Colorado, and South Dakota.” His eyes became little more than narrow slits. “Your livelihood rests on my whim.”
“We’ll see about that.” She jumped from the chair and rushed from the office, taking the stairs as fast as her legs allowed.
No one was in the hall of the third floor, and Tallie ran to the far end where her room was located. The door slammed shut behind her. She crumpled to the floor, breaking down into sobs. Why did bad things always happen to her? Was she that bad of a person that she deserved this lot?
“I want better for you, little one.” She rubbed her stomach, praying for a solution. For her baby’s sake, she had to do something. How much of Roland’s threat was true? Was he as powerful as he claimed or was it a tactic to scare her? Nevertheless, it had worked.
But no matter how terrified she was, she would not subject herself to the life of a brothel woman. A knock sounded on the door, and Tallie winced, afraid Roland had followed her.
“It’s me, Susie. Are you in there, Tallie?” The soft-spoken words put Tallie at ease.
She eased herself off the floor, not an easy task, and wiped away her remaining tears. “Come in.”
Susie entered, wearing nothing more than a robe. Embarrassed, Tallie felt her cheeks warm. She’d been living near the soiled doves for three months, but she couldn’t get used to seeing them in scanty and intimate attire.
“I heard your door bang and then your sobs.” Susie shifted her feet. “Maybe it’s not my place, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”
Tallie’s jaw shuddered as she once more fought against crying. Assessing Susie, she considered telling the buxom beauty what transpired downstairs. Of all the women, Susie had been the friendliest, trying several times to reach out and be a friend.
To Tallie’s disgrace, she’d rejected the woman’s overtures every time. Only now, as she appraised her situation, did she realize how disparaging and condescending she’d been toward the women in the brothel who… well… sold themselves. Who am I to cast judgment when I carry a child created from an illegitimate union?
A heavy sigh rose from her chest. “Roland informed me of his employment expectations of me after my baby is born.”
Green eyes widened. “I think I need to sit for this.” Susie glided to the bed and patted the space beside her. Tallie sat next to her. “What did he say?”
“My services as a laundress will not be needed and if I don’t…” She paused, not sure how to say the word and not offend Susie.
“He’ll force you to the streets if you don’t become like the other girls and me?” Painted red lips offered a sympathetic smile.
“Yes.” Her answer was hardly more than a squeak.
“He’ll keep his word, too.” A frown marred Susie’s thin face. “Roland’s a businessman above all else. Men would pay well to be with you, what with your beautiful blonde hair and bright blue eyes.”
“I can’t stay.” The strangled words nearly caught in her throat.
“Do you have anywhere else you can go?”
“No.” Shaking her head, Tallie brushed away an escaped tear. “And he threatened to jeopardize any chance of employment I’d have elsewhere.”
“Don’t do it, Tallie, don’t become one of us. You’re too sweet and gentle and good for this life.” Susie gripped her shoulders. “Think of your baby.”
“I don’t know where to go or what to do.” Not for the first time, fear clawed at Tallie’s throat.
“Wait here.” After surging to her feet, Susie ran out of the room. She returned several minutes later, a small, black velvet bag in hand. “Take this.”
Squinting, Tallie peered at the pouch with curiosity. “What is it?”
“Money to help you out of here.”
“I can’t take your money.” Placing her palms out, she refused the money.
“Yes, you can.” Insistent, Susie curled Tallie’s hand around the bag. “There’s a lady in town, Lucinda Rohrer. She’s a matchmaker though she brings women in from the east. Regardless, find her immediately—a quick marriage is going to be your best way out of this.”
“Marriage?” The idea took her by surprise. There was a time she’d wanted to find a husband, but now? “No respectable man would want to marry a brothel’s laundress who is eight months with child.”
“Happens all the time out here, honey.” Susie clucked her tongue. “Men aren’t too choosy when they are desperate.”
“Then why don’t you marry and get out of here?”
“There’s a big difference between doing the laundry here and being the main attraction.” Sadness blanketed Susie’s face, but she blinked it away. “It’s too late for me, but I’ve accepted my fate. If I can keep you from falling into this life, then I can face the future knowing I’ve made a difference.”
Torn between wanting to accept and decline, Tallie hesitated before answering. She left the bed and stepped to the window, still holding the velvet pouch. Was there more to life waiting for her out there? “I’ll find Lucinda, but I can’t take your money. You might need it one day.”
“There’s more where this came from,” Susie said with strained flippancy, leading Tallie to believe there wasn’t. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“Why are you so kind and generous?” Conviction for her own thoughts toward Susie and the others filled her with shame.
“One good turn leads to another, right?” Shrugging, Susie glanced toward the door. “Where’s your bag? We need to get you packed. I overheard Roland tell a customer he’ll join them in a poker game across town, so that gives you several hours to get out of here before he notices.”
Hope blossomed. She clutched the bag, silently offering a prayer of thanksgiving for Susie. Her bag was packed in minutes, and then she was ready to leave.
She paused with a hand on the door and looked back to her new friend. “You’re a good person, Susie. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
A sheen of moisture reflected in Susie’s eyes. “You take care, Tallie. I wish you nothing but the best.”
On impulse, Tallie took several steps to reach Susie and gave her a brief hug. “I’ll never forget you and what you’ve done.”
Her departure from the saloon and brothel was reminiscent of when she left the Cohen’s. Bracing her shoulders, she marched down the stairs, unsure of her future. Would this Lucinda lady really be able to help? The prospect of marriage thrilled her. Upon finding out she would have a baby, she’d given up that dream.
But would a prospective husband accept her if he knew her sordid mistake? Maybe he wouldn’t have to know. Perhaps there was a way around that without outright lying. If not¸ would it be so bad to lie for her baby’s safety?
Chapter 4
Four days after Jeremiah hired Lucinda Rohrer to find him a bride, he still hadn’t heard anything from her. A touch of impatience on his part, but he’d decided to pay her a visit and inquire about any updates. He strode across the bedroom and snatched his hat—a brand new Stetson Gus—then fitted it to his head. Before leaving the rented room, he stole a glance in the mirror.
His whiskers were neatly trimmed from a stop at the barber’s yesterday. When the light hit his beard just right, a trace of red was visible, but other than that, the hairs matched the deep brown mop atop his head. If Miss Rohrer found a bride for him, would that woman find him attractive? He’d never lacked for suitors, but none had stolen his heart.
An amusing irony now. Had he made his decision in Chicago, he could have picked a wife who was, at a minimum, a friend. He always had the option of contacting one of his former suitors of Chicago, but that would take time, and he wanted the marriage business settled by Christmas. If he went that route, a good chance remained the woman wouldn’t arrive until spring, which defeated his primary reason for a hasty marriage.
He took the steps to the first floor at a leisurely pace. There was nowhere else he had to go today, no other business to which he had to attend. The last several days had been filled with purchasing large items and organizing the delivery of them to Weatherton. He’d also spent some time inquiring around town about the best men from whom to purchase a starter herd of cattle.
Come spring, he would make a purchase from the Holden family right there in Weatherton. It seemed in the past year they’d made quite a name for themselves. The family was familiar to him—he’d had some good times as a child with Sam and Patrick, the latter having gotten them into trouble with all their parents numerous times.